


Aftermath

by Aifrit



Series: The Stockpile [6]
Category: Final Fantasy, Final Fantasy XIII, Final Fantasy XIII Series, Final Fantasy XIII-2, Lightning Returns: Final Fantasy XIII
Genre: Drunkenness, Established Relationship, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 05:45:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19144750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aifrit/pseuds/Aifrit
Summary: Fights lead to some ridiculous scenarios.





	Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Aftermath  
> Pairing: Lightning/Vanille  
> Rating: T for....*shrug* drugs?  
> Words: 1,584
> 
> A/N: Here's another! Keep in mind that all these Stockpile fics were written from 2015-2017. Enjoy!

It's late. Well past midnight. Streetlights flicker overhead on the highway, refracting through beads of rain pelting the window. The highway's mostly empty. Mostly. And the other cars that do exist drive just at the speed limit off to their destinations.

Lightning sighs, right hand on the wheel. She's tired, exhausted even, after a long day at work. And it would be just a bit longer before she's able to rest. She glances at the passenger's seat, clicks her tongue, and shakes her head.

The girl in the seat is curled up into a ball in a large hoodie and gym shorts, flaming hair cascading over her lightly freckled face (Lightning can barely see her face now, but she's studied those little spots on multiple occasions). She's barely breathing, half asleep anyway, and her breath smells of vodka and flan shots. The stench of Oerban weed lingers from her too, but Lightning knows the girl's discarded clothes on the back seat are the source of that.

College party. Typical. Vanille's a social butterfly, loves going to events with friends and having a good time. Whatever _that_ means for extroverts. She drinks and smokes a bit but she's never gotten this out of hand. Never.

"Mmm..."

Lightning switches lanes, then glances over again.

Vanille stirs, rubs her head, curls tighter into herself. Then recoils. "W-who are you?"

Lightning frowns. "Van. It's me. It's okay."

Vanille looks up, squints, and tilts her head. "You? Light. Ning." She repeats the words at least three times before she strings them together. "Ohhhh. Lightning. Lightning. Claire-bear?"

Lightning flinches. Only her sister, Serah, has ever used that pet name. She'll let it go this time. "Yeah. Lightning. That's me, Van."

"Oh. Lightning..." Vanille trails off. She sits up straighter. "Why am I here? Wh-where are we going?"

She sounds like she's about to cry and Lightning can't help but roll her eyes. "We're going back to my place."

"Why?"

"Because you called me. Crying."

"I did?"

"Yes. I'm taking you back to my place so you can sleep."

"Oh. Okay." Vanille nods and curls back into herself. She falls in her seat instead, leaning over the center console to rest her head in Lightning's lap.

Lightning shakes her head again. She takes the wheel with her left hand, resting the right on Vanille's head. She caresses the girl's head, right down to her cheek. It's wet, Lightning notices, and she makes sure to wipe away the tears under her eyes with her thumb.

"What's wrong, Van?"

Vanille sniffles. "I-I was scared. Really scared."

"Scared of what?" Lightning turns off the highway. Not much longer to go.

"Th-that..." Another sniffle. "That you wouldn't come for me."

"Why wouldn't I come for you?" Lightning's a little hurt at the assumption, but Vanille's still very much drunk and high. She's sobering up at least.

"Uhmm... I. I dunno. Didn't think you wanted t' talk to me..."

"Why not?" Lightning knows why. She just wants to hear Vanille say it.

The rain outside has picked up and Lightning flicks on the wipers.

"'Cause. We fought. Kinda hard."

"Yeah. We did."

It was an intense fight. Not much yelling, but the snide remarks and biting sarcasm irritated them both into not speaking for a few days. Lightning hated every second of it.

"I know you work a lot. I have classes too, and finals really soon. It's just hard. Not seein' you much."

It is hard. Lightning isn't one to crave contact, so sometimes she doesn't notice when Vanille needs it. She's still learning.

"I know, Van. I'm sorry." Lightning rubs her head even still, and Vanille sighs under her touch.

But there's no response. Not a whisper. Lightning figures she's asleep again.

Soon enough she pulls into the parking garage and parks. She rubs her face as her eyes read the time on her dashboard. It's just about 3:30. She thanks the stars it's only early Saturday, but the lack of sleep will kill her. At the very least she can sleep with Vanille and make sure she's okay in the morning.

Lightning kills the engine. She lifts Vanille, gently, placing her back in her seat. Out of the car, she opens the back door to stuff Vanille's discarded party clothes in Vanille's backpack. She puts it on and opens Vanille's door.

Vanille is slumped over, sleeping again, with her head on the center console. Lightning removes the seatbelt, and pulls Vanille out of her seat, carrying her bridal style. She kicks the door closed and makes her way towards the elevator.

She's tired, and wants nothing more than to sleep, but Vanille needs her, and Lightning will do whatever she can to make sure Vanille knows she'll be there.

* * *

One crusty and stuck eye cracks opens, taking in harsh morning sunlight through barely open blinds. The light hurts, a lot, setting off shockwaves through Vanille's already pounding head. She buries her face into the pillow and-

Wait. Pillow? A pillow? Her eyes fly open and a sense of dread washes over her. Where is she? Who picked her up? Goddess... what even happened? She scans the room. The wall in front of her includes a door leading to a balcony. A TV rests against the wall in front of the bed. She's lying halfway under a navy blue comforter, with matching pillows just under her arm and chest. It's then she realizes the pillows smell...familiar. Warm and welcoming.

_Lightning_.

Vanille's eyes sting with oncoming tears, but she holds them back. She's safe. Safe and sound. And with that feeling of safety, guilt consumes her.

She went overboard last night. Vanille's no stranger to having a few hits of Oerban weed and maybe a couple drinks, but last night was intense. She was pissed, still angry and hurt at Light for the heated argument they'd gotten into earlier that week. She figured maybe she could let off some steam, forget that it happened, and have a good time. At least, that's what she wanted initially.

Vanille presses her cheek against the pillow half under her. It smells just like Light.

With every breath she can almost feel the shots of vodka sliding down her throat again. The burning feels too real as does the sear in her lungs from the copious amount of hits from someone's monster bong. She wanted to be rid of her feelings so she drowned them any way she could. At some point in the night, she almost made out with someone. It was close, but she stopped herself right as his disgusting breath wisped across her face and his hand groped her ass. That's when it happened.

She ran into a guest room of the house, locked the door, and started bawling on the floor. She called Light, asked her to come pick her up. She doesn't remember much before or after that. Flashes of images in her head. A negative flux of emotions. The works.

She's grateful, but it's just seven in the morning according to the TV, and it's too early for unwanted memories.

Vanille rises and stretches, bones popping. She notices she's wearing a t-shirt, much larger than how she wears them, and an old pair of boxers. Light's clothes.

Another image flashes through her mind, and she recalls the shower she took early this morning under Light's supervision. She was being a bit of a brat, she remembers that. Whiny, still a little drunk, purposely antagonistic. Everything she could to tip toe that line of making Light want to _not_ help her. She knows why she was doing it, subconsciously. She didn't feel worthy of Light's help and care. Wanted it. Needed it. _Desired_ it. But didn't feel worthy enough. Not after their fight.

She bites her thumb but pushes the thoughts away. Speaking of Light, where is she? The king bed is empty. Not a sign of life in sight or touch.

She gets off the bed and pads out of the room. The condo is silent, eerily quiet since Light is usually up this early. Vanille makes her way to the living room and smiles at the sight before her. Light lies stretched out on the couch, turned inward and still wearing clothes from the day before, probably. Her light snores catch Vanille's ears, and Vanille wonders how she hadn't heard them before.

Despite the nasty fight earlier this week, Light still cares about her at least, enough to hand her the sacred bed and take a night on the couch.

Vanille grabs the blanket over the back of the couch and pulls it over her shoulders. With care, she climbs onto the couch and straddles Light. Light stirs and her eyes fly open as she sits up on her elbows.

"Fuck... fuck. I fell asleep," she whispers to herself, running a hand through her hair. Panic marrs her features. "Shit. Are you okay?"

Vanille nods. "Yeah. Yeah, babe, I'm fine. Just a headache."

"Yeah... good. I should have been awake. I'm sorry."

Vanille tilts her head. "For what? I'm okay."

Light relaxes and lies back. "Just in case."

Oh, how cute. She's clearly never taken care of a plastered girl before. Vanille just smiles. "I'm fine, yeah? Just go back to sleep, please? It's still early."

Light takes a huge breath. "Okay." And she closes her eyes.

Vanille just leans forward, brings the blanket down over both of them, and studies the slow and steady heartbeat thumping beneath her ear.


End file.
